The Sponge Quorum I: The Beginning
by Duruznik
Summary: A group of adventurers unite for the common good i.e. fame and fortune. A saga of incompetence begins...
1. Introduction

Introduction

**Disclaimer:**

**The Ramtop mountains are taken inspirationally from Terry Pratchet's Discworld novels, and the idea belongs strictly to him.**

A bit of science behind the names:

1. This series (yes, it will be a series, and a long one at that) happens in an imaginary campaign world- Gaiapalego,(GAI-A-PA-LE-GO) which is a combination of "gaia," the latin word for "world," and "palego", which I believe means "piece". Together they mean "part of the world".

2. The Campaign revolves around The Sponge Quorum- translated from the Hebrew word "minyan" which mean "a minimum number of people required to perform a certain act," and that is precisely what this mediocre bunch of adventurers is - just enough.

3. The country "Lyrasia"(LEE-RAY-ZHA) is coincidentally related to the word "Laurasia," which is the name of an ancient super continent that ended up joining to make Pangea. Lyrasia is the base from where the first adventure begins.

There, that should satisfy all you nerds out there.

Introducing the mediocre, the weak, the dim, The Sponge Quorum!

**Gilbert**** Apelycus** (GIL-BERT--AP-PE-LIE-CUS)

"If you have no doubt, you must be mistaken."

Race: Dwarf.

Class: Cleric.

Gender: Male.

Age: Around 150 (Dwarves live to about 400).

Bio:

Gilbert's father, Apelycus, founder of his clan, is crucial to understanding his son.

In his youth he went by the name Apel and was a rebellious-minded cleric in the West Lyrasian village of Thirally. The power-hungry human Cleric, Drezner wanted such open minds as Gilbert's repressed so the charismatic cleric banned poor Apel from the village. Soon afterwards the village was destroyed in a battle between Orcs and Goblins, who inhabited the land as raiders.

Having gotten lost in the mountains separating Lyrasia from the neighboring El-Retania, Apel was rescued by local elves (in my game the elves are closer to Tolkien's lower elves than the higher ones) and renamed "Lycus". Eventually, called back to his village (now rebuilt in the southern-Lyrasian moors), Apel-Lycus was continually persecuted by Drezner till his final breath.

Named after his mother's father, Gilbert Apelycus has been sentenced to death to end his father's troubling legacy….

**Aradiln**** Therdinal** (A-RA-DILN--THER-DI-NAL)

"I used to think I could control nature, then I became a druid"

Race: Elf.

Class: Druid.

Gender: Male.

Age: Around 150 (Elves reach adulthood at around 50 and live to about 700).

Bio:

Born to a noble family in the elven village of Inbar in Ingan forest, Aradiln lived a pretty sheltered - okay, comfortable to the point of nausea - life until his 50th birthday. At approximately the same time a crazy (i.e. bored) mage was razing the country with a bunch of ice giants. They happened to come across the village and decided to kill everyone, just because that was expected from a demented mage's army.

Aradiln escaped with his life, but couldn't live as an outcast forever, no matter how much the forest supplied his needs. He was eventually found and taken in by Druids, and when his master died (note: in my world Druids don't die, they become gnarled trees and join the natural consciousness) he inherited his patch (some Druids own small patches of land which serve as their homes).

Soon afterwards Aradiln found a worg and foolishly decided to try and train it, until a couple of adventurers stumbled upon his land…

**Islan**** Felanus** (EYE-LAN--FEL-LAN-US)

"A sword cannot kill. I can!"

Race: Human.

Class: Paladin.

Gender: Male.

Age: Around 25.

Bio:

Islan was found as a baby by a pious couple in a small village in the southern moors. He was raised by foster parents in a religious environment until he decided to go searching for his real parents.

Having left religion and safety for adventure, Islan spent nearly a year scavenging food from the moors until a Paladin found him with his fingers in his pocket, trying to get something to eat. Instead of killing him, the Paladin decided to take him under his wing and tutor him. After finishing his training at around the age of 20, Islan set out on his own as a Paladin serving the king.

He had been posted to lookout duty over the southern moors, and had just received a letter straight from the king of Lyrasia himself…

**Grud**** Toornick** (GRUD--TOOR-NICK)

"Approaching the sound barrier… now!"

Race: Gnome.

Class: Rogue.

Gender: Male.

Age: Around 60 (Gnomes reach adulthood at 40 and live to about 350).

Bio:

Grud Toornick grew up in a normal family of gnomes who lived under a mansion of a rich aristocrat. Having been raised on stealth and crime (there isn't much to do living under someone else's house if you intend on living an honest life), Grud eventually grew up and left to join a tribe of thieves based in the Khrak desert.

It turned out that life in a thieves' tribe is not as exciting as Grud thought, and looking for an even richer and more interesting lifestyle, he left the tribe and joined a wizard who was a victim of the economy and couldn't get a job. After a spell of very successful crime, they were stopped by three goody-goody adventurers…

**Demorish**** Sarlar**(DE-MOR-ISH--SAR-LAR)

"I don't really give a damn"

Race: Human.

Class: Wizard.

Gender: Male.

Age: around 30.

Bio:

Demorish is a cheerful person, as can be ascertained from his bright and lively history.

Demorish's father was abusive and so he killed him as soon as he reached his mid teens. Self orphaned and poor, Demorish wandered the streets until he found a wizard who was prepared to teach him the secrets of magic. Soon afterwards the wizard was killed by a crime lord who had decided he didn't like magic.

Demorish started to hide his scarred features using illusion, and continued stealing because he was simply economically retarded.

Learning from stolen scrolls, he wandered the streets for years and eventually teamed up with an eccentric Gnome until they made the mistake of stealing in front of a Paladin…

**Lyra**** Tiberleon** (LIE-RA--TYE-BEER-LEE-OWN)

"Yeah, I lied. So what?"

Race: Human.

Class: Fighter.

Gender: Female.

Age: Don't you dare ask!

Lyra seems to be the only person among the Quorum who actually had a normal childhood. Born to an economically comfortable family, Lyra was always a tomboy and decided to join the military when she grew up.

Lyra seemed to show huge promise - she was strong, decent looking and intelligent, but she had one major shortcoming - she was a woman, in an extremely chauvinistic world. So instead of joining the army she ended up as a bodyguard to Mwain in Lellion Town, at the foot of the Ramtops. She led a peaceful career until a mysterious man called Drezner came to town…

There you have it. All six incompetent adventurers, stuck together by pure chance, some might say bad luck. Now… let The Beginning… er… begin!


	2. Gilbert's Rescue

Chapter 1

**A/N: A few corrections to the introduction:**

**1. Elves reach adulthood at 110 years, not 50.**

**2. Aradlin's family name is spelled like so: "Thyrdinal"**

**King Theldes' name is pronounced THEL-DEEZ.**

**While using Detect Evil, any figure appearing red is evil, anyone white is neutral and a blue one is good. Anybody who is a different colour is just plain weird.**

**And many thanks to my new Beta'er… Aradiln Thyrdinal!**

**On with the story.**

* * *

Darkness.

Turn around, and see myriads of white pinpoints of light.

Zoom in and you will see that each dot is a small ball of blinding light.

Select one, and come closer… it has planets.

Approach one, and zoom into the western continents… the southern end of a sea, just north of a mountain so high it can be seen from space…

Finally, you fall down until you see that on the tip of the mountain's smallest foothill there is a shack…

See an armour-clad man, tall, muscular and sandy-haired, holding a letter.

_Dear Sir Felanus,_

_King Theldes,_ _our beloved monarch, regent of Lyrasia, is concerned with recent troubling events that have taken place in the Ingan province, and a knight with your wilderness experience is needed for an intelligence gathering mission there._

_Your presence in the throne room at Gal palace is required in one week. Make sure you are there, for the king will provide you with the details of your mission._

_Signed,_

_Scribble scribble_

_Herbato Sigurd, chief of intelligence at Gal court._

The man's hand closed around the letter, and five minutes later, Islan Felanus (for it indeed was he) walked out of his lookout shack and headed - or rather fell in a controlled manner - down the rocky slopes to the moor that covered South Lyrasia for miles in all directions.

"Great, first the lookout job and now this… when do I get to bust criminal heads?" He murmured to himself.

A few kilometers down the slope, a small village could be seen, glued to the rocky terrain. On a large rock nearby a sign was engraved:

"WELCOM TO THIRALLY VILAG"

Beyond the rock many rundown huts were scattered around in a clearing, and just beyond them a crowd has gathered to watch some kind of spectacle.

A tall, dark haired and intimidating man was reading from a scroll. He radiated charisma and power, and was dressed in fine silks. He was standing on a wooden dais in front of a small crowd of farmers, old women and ragged children. They all appeared frightened and confused, captured by his rhetoric. Beside the man was a guillotine, with a bearded head stuck in it's hollow. The head's current owner was still attached to it with an air of leaving soon. Why the finery- covered man was in this small and poor village at the end of the world was anybody's guess. He read:

"Gilbert Apelycus, son of Apelycus, son of Nard, son of Pedan, you are charged with heresy, continued disobedience of the Moradin church, sedition and inciting riots. How do you plead?"

The doomed dwarf smiled at his accuser.

"Would it please you if I pleaded guilty?", he said. "It might save us both some time."

The tall man suddenly became a picture of controlled fury.

"Your insolence is crime enough, you do not deserve to live," he snarled. "I herby judge you… guilty."

During this exchange of pleasantries, our curious paladin had stopped by and was hiding in the bushes.

"Detect evil," he whispered, and a quick scan showed a crowd of pale blue figures, a bright red one on the dais, and most curiously, a turquoise one about to be killed. A simple dilemma was resolved in the decision to do the right thing, and the paladin exploded out of the bushes and ran toward the raised platform at full speed. He quickly grabbed the dwarf and ran away toward the trees, while the infuriated executioner was ordering the archers to "shoot their bloody heads off."

The rescuer ran for several minutes before he felt safe again, and finally laid the short man down on a rock. Islan looked the strange character up and down. The dwarf had grey beard which at an earlier age might have been black, an ornate helmet and a red cloak covering scale armour beneath. The pendant around his chest confirmed he was a cleric of Moradin, and he seemed to be daydreaming with half his mind all the time.

"Who-hwa-who-who are you?" He panted.

The stranger looked up at his savior and stopped picking a rock out of his boots.

"Me? I'm Gilbert Apelycus. You? That's a question I'd like an answer to."

* * *

**A/N: Well, there you have it, the first chapter of our story. Did you like it? If so, review, if not, review anyway. Criticism is welcomed, but make it constructive. I'll try to make my chapters longer in future, but I can't guarantee it. Chapter two coming soon!**


	3. Aradiln's Worg

Chapter 2

"Islan Felanus, at your service."

The paladin bent over to shake the dwarf's gloved hand.

"Now, what happened back there? Who was that man and why was he executing you? I could tell he was evil."

The dwarf grinned up at his savior. "The man who was on the dais goes by the name of Drezner. Many years ago he popped up in our village and posed as a cleric of Moradin. Our village is not exactly full of intellectuals, and he bought their trust with ease. My father, Apelycus, saw right through him for what he was."

Islan frowned. This story was getting complicated.

"Well, what was he?"

Gilbert looked at him mournfully. "Evil, but more than plain evil. He wanted nothing more or less than the complete destruction of society. He persecuted my father for many years, and his hatred of him only increased when I was born. He finally decided to end any resistance in our village by framing me with heresy. Then you came along." He frowned. "Thank you."

Islan was becoming more pompous by the minute. "All in a day's work for a paladin. Now, I think you should come with me to my liege, King Theldes, and warn him that evil has infiltrated our ranks. Lyrasia must be protected!"

Gilbert stared at the paladin, who was dreaming of himself defeating evil criminals for the greater good. A smirk was playing across his face.

"Yeah, I suppose that is as good an idea as any. I think I'll grow to like you, Islan, but a significant part of my sanity will probably disappear in the process …"

.o.0.O.0.o.

Aradiln Thyrdinal was quite content with his life. Granted, he was inexperienced in his chosen druidic profession. Apparently, he still had some anger issues to sort out before he could live in harmony with nature, and the other druids did make fun of him at every Gathering…

Nevertheless, he had finally gotten his own patch after years of hard work, and as a bonus his old mentor Ysrik allowed him to pick an animal companion of his own. He had chosen a worg. Canus was still a bit temperamental , but he guessed that it would take the brute some time to acclimatize.

Aradiln was currently standing still in the middle of his patch, trying to synchronize himself with his surroundings. Worgy was out hunting, so he decided a bit of training would be a good idea. He held the twig at an arm's length and stared at it intently for several minutes. The twig did not sprout leaves like it was supposed to, but it did feel a bit uncomfortable and self-conscious from all the staring.

Aradiln sighed. It didn't work. It never did. He was sick of other druids merely touching a tree for it to bloom, sick of old sages telling him that the path was in his own mind. In his own mind… what did that crap mean anyway?

Wait… what was that?

A rustling was coming from the trees up ahead, and some faint voices with it.

"Canus?" Aradiln ventured. The wolf came out from the bushes behind, puzzled.

The voices were getting clearer as their owners neared the patch.

"I told you, we should've turned left at the big rock that looked like a purple worm!"

"Oh, since when did you become an expert on navigation?"

"Hello? I'm a paladin with 'wilderness experience'?"

"Yeah, for a paladin 'wilderness' means the palace gardens-"

Gilbert, the last person to talk, had just stopped talking as he discovered that the abandoned clearing he was entering, wasn't.

Islan was just behind. "Why have you stopped-"

He noticed the worg and the druid, and immediately tensed up. Even he could tell a fight was approaching.

Aradiln was angering. Intruders! Walking around like they owned the forest! He saw the paladin drawing his sword and screamed, "Canus! Get 'em!"

The worg pounced, charging at the two strangers. The beast was in a craze, his killing instinct repressed for weeks. He bulldozed over the paladin, then turned and charged at the cleric, who fell. He opened his jaws-

"No!"

Aradiln wanted the intruders disabled, not killed. He tried to block his animal companion, but the ill- suited pet was out of control. In the heat of the battle, the poor druid was faced with the murder of his animal friend, or the murder of two innocent men. His decision was made in an instant, and there was no time for second thoughts. Canus attacked his master, only stopping when he was pushed off with a yelp by Islan. Gilbert dragged the wounded druid aside and began healing him, while Islan prepared for the beast's next attack.

Gods, it hurt.

Gilbert entered the fight now, swinging his warhammer in a hopeful kind of way, and between him and Islan they managed to bring the beast to it's knees, at which point Aradiln found the strength to swing his scimatar and-

Squelch.

Gilbert and Islan were helping each other up while Aradiln was staring in shock at his former companion's severed head. Gilbert and Islan left him to his mourning. Neccesary questions would be asked in time.

.o.0.O.0.o.

The next day bore witness to a paladin, a cleric and a druid making their way north. Aradiln had decided to go and request a new patch from the Grand Druid in Gal.

Islan looked up from his aged map at the small walled town up ahead. A wide, slow section of the Glak river was making it's way a dozen feet from the walls towards the east in a depressed kind of way. A small bridge found its way across the running water, which was a pale green.

Islan frowned at the place. "It doesn't look like much."

"It's a small town in the middle of the moors. It's not one of your large cities with your palaces and gardens and statues," said Gilbert, rolling his eyes.

"Still, it's a pretty big place. Lots of supply finds its way here while going down or up river," said Aradiln.

Gilbert turned to face the elf. "Supply nothing, all I want is a soft bed and a pint of beer for a night."

* * *

**A/N:**** So, I hope you enjoyed that. After the fight scene with Canus, there is a short angst scene which I didn't feel like metioning; use your imagination. I realise that a druid wouldn't kill his animal companion under normal cicumstances, but these are not normal cicumstances. Besides, I believe in free will of characters, and that allignments are not set in stone, so tough.**

**Next chapter coming soon.**


	4. Arrest in Isca

Chapter 3

**A/N: Well, here's the next chapter, it wasn't easy, so enjoy.**

**A word on spelling: Isca (the town in which we find our group of adventurers) is pronounced ISS-SA.**

* * *

The world of Gaiapalego has many great cities.

Some are made entirely out of marble or beautiful jewels, or covered in fine silks in the middle of the desert, and some are full of dark and imposing spires that reach up to the heavens. These locations are frequented by famous and powerful heroes embarking on holy crusades.

The town of Isca is none of these. In fact, it is a fairly mundane city made out of mud and stone, notable only for its importance in leading goods down the river Glak. The group of adventurers that we are concerned with were neither powerful nor famous. In fact, they were quite boring.

.o.0.O.0.o.

"12 gp per pound?! Are you mad?! I could buy half the farm at that price!"

The boring adventurers in question were currently haggling with a dwarven trader at the market. At least, Gilbert was, while the other two watched.

The merchant folded his arms. "That's the market value."

"Are you kidding me? It's no more than 3 gp."

"I ship these babies all the way from the Rummen orchids upriver. I gotta cover for expenses."

"9 gp?!"

"They are very heavy expenses."

While the two dwarves haggled away, Aradiln let his mind wander. He was almost sure that his holy friend was actually enjoying the argument, but they did need to hurry if they were going to complete all their groceries.

Suddenly, he noticed a small movement at the stall next to them. A gnome dressed in black leather straps and belts was picking the pocket of a passing merchant, but for some reason the man was in a daze and didn't notice the theft. Aradiln tapped Islan on the back who in turn grabbed Gilbert by the shoulder.

Gilbert took one look and said, "I don't know if we should get involved, Islan. It's just a petty thief."

Islan gritted his teeth. "We are getting involved, because if you want people to follow the big laws you've got to enforce the small ones Let's go!"

Gilbert and Aradiln exchanged exasperated looks, but he had a vague point. The three of them advanced quickly on the little thief, who noticed them and began to run when Gilbert's hammer blocked his path in a very physical manner.

"Please, come quietly and no one gets hurt." Gilbert grinned while the gnome rubbed his nose.

The gnome gave him a sly look. "I ain't ready to be dragged in yet, buddy, so you and your goody two-shoes friends better back off, ya hear?"

Aradiln raised his eyebrows. " Goody two-shoes?" At the same time Islan lunged at the thief with his longsword, but the little devil just leaped back effortlessly.

"Careful there, you might hurt someone," he jeered.

Islan snarled at the midget as he prepared for another attack, but he suddenly felt such an extreme cold as he had never felt before. Looking around, he could see both Aradiln and Gilbert covered in frost.

A figure, tall and intimidating, stepped forth from the shadows. His form seemed to quiver as he stood there, not completely corporeal. The icy air stopped flowing from his fingertips as he said, "Leave my accomplice alone, or you will die."

Gilbert had quickly sneaked behind him and gave the man a hefty blow with his hammer, jumping two feet in the air just to reach his head.

The gnome was now shooting bolts with his crossbow when Aradiln managed to put his scimitar to the thief's throat, whispering, "Another move and you're dead, my short friend."

Finally the three adventurers found that things were relaxed enough to take a look at their adversaries. The gnome had short, spiky hair and small, beady and mistrustful eyes. He was covered in dark leather bands and belts. His tall companion was apparently human, but something about his appearance was wrong. His form never quite settled, as though they were looking at him through water. He was quite handsome and muscled, but once again his looks seemed unnatural. His staff and robes indicated that he was either a wizard or fashionably challenged.

Islan found he had caught the important part of his breath, or at least the bit that made speech possible. "So," he said triumphantly, "you should know that-"

"Where is my wallet? You young 'uns are always fooling around! I demand my wallet, you useless excuses for kids. What are you three, anyway? The secret police? I won't have any of this!" A man old enough to be angry about it was the unfortunate victim of the gnome's pilfering, and it wasn't clear if his magical friend had dazed the elder or he had been just too old to notice.

"As I was saying," said Islan, painfully trying to ignore the old man's complaints, "In the name of King Theldes of Lyrasia, you are under arrest! You have a right to-"

"I said, where is my godsdangin' wallet!" shouted the old man.

The rest of his complaints were cut off by a crash coming from just behind him. An owlbear, 10 feet tall and roaring like an apocalyptic monster smashed right through the houses behind the old man. The geezer wisely chose to hobble away as fast a he could, screaming something about stealing knights and crazy monsters.

The gnome acted on impulse. Aradiln was in shock and so he could easily cut loose of the elf and start shooting at the huge monster. The owlbear in turn started to lumber forward in a blind rage, and the rest of the adventurers were forced to react or die.

Gilbert, Aradiln and Islan all charged at the beast, but only managed to cause minor damage to its thick skin. It was constantly advancing on them, and finally it managed to fell Aradiln with a single blow of it's huge taloned paw. At that point a splash of acid came from the recently conscious wizard, who amazingly still showed no signs of emotion. The beast screamed as its fur sizzled and burned, and Islan's attacks, coupled with a barrage of bolts, managed to bring it to its knees. Gilbert then got up from healing his elfin friend. He then delivered what would have been a crushing blow to the owlbear's feet if he had ever received some decent training with a weapon.

Exhausted, wounded and confused by all the noise and attacks, the owlbear finally toppled over sideways with a long groan. Gilbert grinned at his fellows. "Well, that wasn't too bad, wasn't it?"

.o.0.O.0.o

The next few minutes bore witness to the wizard and the thief's handcuffing, the removal of the owlbear by a very lucky butcher, and the five adventurers leaving the town before anyone decided it was all their fault. Islan debated with himself whether they should hand the crooks over to the local authorities, but he reasoned that they would've escaped the next day anyway.

By late afternoon the sky was painted the type of orange that indicates dramatic moments. Our group of adventurers had reached the southern tip of a vast forest that stretched out in every direction.

Islan look up at the towering trees. "Ingen forest," he said proudly, "Gal is on the other side." He then frowned. "Something is wrong."

The forest was filled with the wild and jumbled sounds of thousands of panicking animals. Birds were flying around, screeching, while hogs, deer and other small furry things were charging out of the forest, scared of whatever was in it.

Aradiln looked alarmed. "Let me check." He put his palm to the trunk of a nearby tree and concentrated. He blanked out all other sounds and focused on the natural consiousness that was the tree. You could say that the words of his mentors were running through his mind, guiding him, but that would be a lie. He was just hoping really, really hard.

"Well?" asked Gilbert. "Can you hear something?"

A sudden peaceful expression conquered Aradiln's face. "Oh," he said, and collapsed on the spot.

* * *


	5. Ingen and Out Again

Chapter 4

**A/N: Well, here it is, after more than a month of trying, I finally managed to get this chapter out. I would like to remind everyone that I claim no rights to the Ramtops, and that the name is Terry Pratchett's idea. I just used it because I couldn't thing of a better name. Enjoy.**

* * *

While Aradiln collapsed, the two manacled thieves took the chance to run- straight into the woods. While Gilbert tried to resuscitate Aradiln, Islan furiously turned into the forest in pursuit but the two were long gone. Only a small dust cloud stood where the criminals had run off, out of which a panicking warthog charged out of the woods and straight into Islan. Angry to the point of foolishness, Islan yelled at the cleric, "We're going in!" and started in the direction down which the two escapees had headed. Gilbert sighed and finished reviving his friend.

"C'mon," he said.

"What happened?"

"Islan's being honorable again."

"Oh."

.o.O.0.O.o.

Several hours later was when Islan finally stopped in his tracks and realized he was lost.

"Erm…" He looked around nervously, looking for a trail or something similar.

Gilbert sat down and started taking off his boots. "Good. Now that you've realized this is hopeless, can we camp for the night and do damage control?"

Islan sighed and sat down too. "Alright look, I just-"

"Just a minute there, sir goblin-brains." Gilbert waved at the knight for silence while turning to Aradiln. "So, now that we have a moment to talk, what happened back there, Aradiln?" he asked.

Aradiln's face hardened as he spoke. "The forest is…scared."

Islan raised his eyebrows at him. "You think? I couldn't tell, what with all the panicking animals."

"No, it's more than just that. The animals, the whole forest - the trees, the dirt, the birds and everything else are terrified - I expect the dryads are all wandering about dazed. Everything, is in a state of complete madness. Something is causing them terrible trauma."

Islan looked uncomfortable. "Well, I don't think we should get involved. We need to reach Gal."

Gilbert glared at him. "Damn right we need to. Both Aradiln and I need to go to the capital as much as you do, and while we are sticking with you for now, it doesn't mean you have an authority over us. We are traveling together for protection."

"Right"

"Nothing else."

"Fine!"

.o.O.0.O.o.

That night the trio did not camp, out of fear for what might happen to them if they slept in a mad forest. It was impossible to navigate with the few stars they could see through the canopy of trees overhead, but they had to keep going.

"I'm sure we've been here before," grumbled Aradiln.

"All these trees look the same. How can you tell?" Asked Islan.

"We've been walking around in circles!" Said Aradiln.

"Nonsense! You're just imagining it!"

While his companions' tempers were twanging, Gilbert noticed a branch was making its way towards him.

"Uh, guys?"

"You callin' me crazy?!"

"No, just clueless!"

"Guys?" the branch had been joined by several friends, and had managed to wrap around Gilbert's legs in no time at all.

"I'm warning you, armour-boy!"

"Oh yeah? What will you do, hit me with a twig?!"

"Guys! A little help would be mmrrf-" Gilbert was cut off by a feeler wrapping itself around his throat. Luckily, Aradiln and Islan had finally noticed their friend was being strangled by a plant, and decided to take action.

"Great! First we're lost and then an assassin vine strangles us!" yelled Islan, as he sliced the feelers that were wrapped around Gilbert's legs.

"It was your fault we got lost in here in the first place!" hollered Aradiln, while he freed Gilbert's head from three thick vines.

Cut loose from the floral attacker, Gilbert got up and yelled at the two of them, "Will you two shut up and help me finish this thing?!"

The plant was disposed of by means of Aradiln and Gilbert holding the base of the vine while Islan swung his longsword at it and cut clean through. After a series of half-hearted hacking at vines, the three adventurers had vented all their anger, and resumed walking in what they hoped was the way out, noticing that it was a little lighter.

Pretty soon the ground was noticeably sloping upwards, and the trio went from walking, to hiking, to climbing up what was proving to be a mountain, although where it ended was hard to tell because of the lush foliage that surrounded them. The sun had risen properly by the time they had reached the top and looked down to see a vast desert below the cliff they were standing on.

Islan gasped. "These are the Ramtops! We've been going north-east! And look," he pointed at a town directly below them, "Lellian city!"

Just then the clifftop they were standing on decided it had been abused enough. After all, it knew its rights, and there was no reason it should put up with that kind of stress, so it broke off the mountain and plummeted towards a new home with new opportunities. To its disgust the adventurers that had abused it followed it there, but they would probably perish in the fall anyway, though, so that was okay.

The abusers in question did not, however, perish. They merely bounced off a tent and landed in the midst of a very surprised group of goblins and an equally surprised cleric. But just as the goblins prepared for the order to attack, a pulsing, shimmering giant appeared over the nearby hilltop and screamed.

"Yalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalae!!"


	6. Bealzwood Fires

Chapter 5

**A/N: Well, here's the last chapter… hasn't been easy, so enjoy!**

**And yes, Islan and Natchan's names are supposed to rhyme… it's a paladin trait….**

* * *

Garnog's day had started out pretty much the same as any other day.

Nothing had happened on guard duty, Drezner hadn't yelled at him that much and that female goblin two tents next to his was definitely in to him. Yep, things were certainly shaping up.

Then a screaming, _pulsing_ giant scaled the hill above the camp and started a riot.

Of course, Garnog fled together with the rest of the goblins, and even Drezner was caught off guard and escaped, with no army to command. Quite how Garnog ended up face down in a garbage dump escaped the goblin, but his day had definitely taken a turn for the worse.

.o.O.0.O.o.

Islan's day had not started out well, what with the clifftop giving way and the group falling into the midst of a goblin camp, so he wasn't sure if this strange apparition was for better or worse. However, shortly after the goblins had fled, the giant shrank and became a woman. She was human, slim with black hair and wore chainmail. After taking a few deep breaths, she motioned for the group to come.

"Well, I'm glad they're gone," she said with a smile.

"Err, who are you?" asked gilbert.

"I'm Lyra Tiberleon, and these two are Grud Toornick and Demorish Sarlar, you've probably heard about them. They are wanted throughout Lyrasia for theft and smuggling." Lyra pointed at two figures who had climbed up the hill behind her.

All three men were gobsmacked. "Um, we know these two…" said Aradiln feebly.

They were the two thieves from Isca.

.o.O.0.O.o.

Half an hour later the group had chained up Grud and Demorish, and had settled down on a few boulders to talk.

Gilbert massaged his temples. "Now, who are you again, and why did you help us?"

Lyra smiled at him. "I'm Lyra Tiberleon, and I live in the nearby town. I was a bodyguard of a rich businessman who ran trade routs through the Arad desert, until a man visited us." At this she paused, concentrating on the memory. "He was very tall, had short dark hair and was so charismatic it was. He and my master sat down for a business meeting, and although I was there I couldn't quite understand what was going on. The man, his name was Drezner, was saying perfectly ordinary words, harmless sentences, but each syllable was like a punch to my master's face. He began sweating, and seemed to depend on the man's continued talk. Once they had finished talking, Drezner simply stood up, politely asked my master if he could kill him… and he just nodded. Drezner stabbed him with a knife and pushed me aside with such force that I flew backwards into the wall. Enraged, I ran after him, looking through every room and corridor, and subsequently ran outside. He was gone, and I had failed. I screamed so loudly, some loose mortar fell off the doorway." At this point Lyra's face was filled with contempt.

"I ended up getting a job in the marketplace, where I learned of Drezner's camp outside the city, and of many mysterious deaths of rich figures in the city during the past two days. I also managed to catch the two thieves while I was there, and with a little persuasion I convinced them to help me scare Drezner away. And that's how we all ended up here." She grinned at them all.

All three men were once again sitting with their jaws hanging, and Grud was saying: "Convinced us? That skank threatened to mash our heads into paste! You should have seen the look in her eyes!"

"So…" Aradiln was trying to piece the situation back together in his head. "You helped us…Why, exactly?"

Lyra ginned at him. "Any enemy of Drezner is a friend of mine, that guy cost me the job of my life. And besides, what are friends for?" She held out her hand. "Friends?"

Gilbert burst out laughing.

And so Lyra Tiberleon joined the group of adventurers, to help prevent them having their not-very-proverbial butts kicked.

.o.O.0.O.o.

The six adventurers headed north, then east along the northern edge of Ingen forest, and so after several days of foot-ache, they reached a small wood.

Islan looked at the dark trees up ahead. "Hmm…If we cut right through these woods, we could reach Gal by the end of the day!" he exclaimed.

"Are you mad?" asked Gilbert, "This is Bealzwood, the darkest forest in this half of the continent! Only bad things can happen in here!"

Aradiln looked uneasy. "Maybe we should go around it…"

"But that kind of detour would have us arrive at Gal tomorrow morning, at the earliest!" Islan said, "We could make it there today if we cross this forest!"

Gilbert stared at Islan for a full minute before retorting. "Well, you're mad, but I suppose if we all go together…." He looked at the whole group. "Oh gods, we're dead."

Hours later the group was slowly making its way through the woods, the dark and twisted trees blocking out any sunlight, making it appear as though dusk had arrived.

Aradiln looked at a small branch protruding from a tree.

"Hey, guys…." He pointed at the branch. "Look…"

The branch was smoking. A moment later a small flame started snaking its way up the branch, and within seconds the whole tree was aflame.

"Run!!" yelled Lyra as the surrounding trees caught fire.

The six adventurers ran through the forest, the flames catching up with them from behind. Aradiln yelled as he slipped into a ditch, but just as the flames were about to reach him a hand shot out, catching him and dragging him up again. It was Demorish. Aradiln looked after him in a dazed manner as he ran onwards. Lyra screamed as her hand was burned by a passing branch, but Gilbert grabbed her by the arm and dragged her on. Islan fell into a ditch filled with brambles, but was saved by Aradiln and Grud in the nick of time. Clutching each other, the six companions ran through the woods, and finally burst into the light - they had gotten out of the forest.

"Well, that wasn't so bad, was it?" said Islan cheerily. Gilbert looked up from his healing of Lyra just long enough to scowl.

.o.O.0.O.o.

It was late evening when the group finally made it to Gal, its pointed rooftops glinting in the last vestiges of light. The whole city lay in the shadow of the massive mount Graighon, the city walls providing extra defense on top of the mountain.

We shall skip Islan's feeble explanation to the city guards, Lyra's threats to Grud and Demorish if they dared touch a thing in the market, Aradiln's panic at being so far away from trees, and the mobs that formed for reasons that escaped the group's minds completely, and continue at the point where they enter the great hall of the palace.

"Hello, we're here to see the king. He summoned me here about a week ago," said Islan to the official at the desk.

The clerk glanced up from his writing and looked at Islan. "Ah, Islan! Good to have you back! How was lookout duty in the foothills?"

Islan sighed. "Nice to see you too, Natchan. It was terrible, as you well know."

Natchan's eyes skimmed over Gilbert, his beard straggly and mottled; Lyra, he clothes torn at several places form the forest fire encounter; Grud and Demorish, both dressed in rags and both manacled; and Aradiln, who was still shaking slightly.

"And these are…?" he asked.

Islan looked at them uncomfortably. "They, um. Well, we…teamed up to travel…Didn't have the time…"

The clerk glanced at him for a moment before scribbling on a document in front of him. He mouthed the words as he wrote:

_"6:45- The Sponge Quorum"_


	7. Epilogue

Epilogue

So, I guess this is the end of the beginning.

It's been a lot of fun writing this, so don't worry, I will continue the series.

Many thanks go to my beta'er- Aradiln Thyrdinal's player!

I would also like to thank the rest of the players in the group- Lyra Tiberleon, Grud Toornik, Demorish Sarlar, and Islan Felanus. (I play Gilbert Apelycus) These stories are actual adaptations of adventures that we played out, and that adds a certain dimension to the game, a certain believability of character that normal writing can't duplicate.

I would also like to thank the few readers who actually read this story through, and especially those who reviewed- it helps a lot!

See you all in "The Sponge Quorum II- The Tunnels of Abarack"

--Duruznik of Abu-Duruz.


End file.
